Dear Jimi,
Funny, today is still your birthday, only you aren't here to celebrate with us. We'll celebrate all the same. I know I don't need to explain loss to you. Somehow you always got me.
I don't miss what went on the last couple of years. In 2020, we were coming to the end of a long siege of hospital and rehab, six weeks worth and your birthday was approaching. I planned you a party in a room at rehab. Since we lost two siblings at age 63, and since you'd already gone two rounds of being nearly dead, you were so looking forward to being 64. But on your actual birthday, the world stopped turning. We didn't get to have your party and I didn't go back to school that spring. Covid is the pits, but that not going back to school allowed me to drop you off and pick you up from dialysis and many appointments, and keep you well fed, so for that I was grateful. That spring you were allowed one last spring in your step and were up and about, mowing the lawn, doing things you loved. It was a short lived spring before your liver failed entirely. From summer's end to your end, it was hard going and heart breaking. On this morning last year, Tish was fighting the powers that be to get you home. Finally, at seven pm on Friday, your 65th birthday, you were so happy to be in your own little corner with the comforts that meant home to you. It was so short lived. On Sunday at noon, I wrapped myself around you and sobbed as you left here.
What do I miss? I'm a little quirky myself ( insert here -chuckle of my closest people who are smiling saying, "Umm, you think?"). Our kitchen is in need of repair, serious repair. Could there be a worse time with the current prices? I am so struggling with spending a king's ransom for a kitchen that will be part of tumbledown ol' farm house. What I'd love to do is use old cabinets and warm colors and have a mismatch cabinets, but how to do this alludes me. If you were here, you would ride around to places with me all day and tell just what would work where, and I would have zero doubt that you were right. I miss your big hugs. I miss the way you liked me and everything that I liked. You would have loved that I took a pottery class and wouldn't have minded if I gave you a tiniest bowl or vase for a tiniest bloom, my favorites as well.
I miss your little treasures you saved for me, or my students. I miss how we shared a love of plants and animals and babies and details and littlest things. I miss that my emotions didn't scare you, and you had no expectation that I shouldn't cry or grieve things and people. I surely miss that smile. I miss having a quirky partner.
This was the last time you were able to join the fun, food and festivities you loved, at the Gingerbread House Party.
It has been 363 days of missing you and tears. Tomorrow though, your boys and a couple of your friend girls and few more of your people will celebrate you with me. Happy Heavenly Birthday my brother/friend.
Love, Your Quirky Baby Sister
Other than teach and finally go my own round with the latest variation of the latest disease, I've done the above mentioned pottery and not much else.
The Saturday before Valentine's Day I did stop by the floral department of our big Kroger to ask if they could save me some ribbon spools. I told them I needed them for a class project. The nice lady asked where I worked and them asked if I'd like some flowers for the teachers. I said that would be great thinking she was going to give me a bouquet. No, eight dozen roses. What?
So it turned out to be a fun double blessing as my girls and I enjoyed making a ton of little bouquets and my students loved delivering them on Valentine's Day.
Loved everything about this post! Wow for all the roses! What fun!
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